These are from last night. The skies have been somewhat stormy these past few weeks, indeed it's been a clement summer without that tremendous heat of last year. The days are never stable, they are dictated by bits of rain, sun, and clouds.
So thus by the end of most days, the skies look confused, which leaves a painter confused as well. But I show up to see what there is to do, hoping always, like a priest, to find light somewhere, anywhere.
I have discovered that if I am patient enough for the sun to set behind me, then a terrible kind of beauty settles into the sky to the west, in front of me. And this scene of what had been hitherto an unruly set of storm clouds, gently dissolves into a delicate lacework reminding of Holland.
The light then feels like that of the Northern Hemisphere, greyish with a delicate patina evoking the 17th century. It's not something I am after really, but the joy in painting such a sky is everything. It is this joy above all, eclipsing even the result, which matters the most.
These small paintings came quickly though not in order. The top image was the last one in fact, and my preferred one. The other two are OK, certainly, they had to be painted in order for me to get to the last one.
Looking at all three right now, I think of a gloomy pea soup. Mysterious, uncertain, wavering!